^I)c  Jsiaclitc  «)itl)Out  €^uilc. 


A 

MEMORIAL  SERMON 

OF  THE 

RIGHT  REVEREND 
PREACHED  BEFORE  THE 

Convention  of  the  Diocese  of  Alabama, 


BY  THE 


REV.  GEO.  F.  CUSHMAN,  D.  D. 

RECTOR  OF  ST.  LUKe's  CHURCH,  CAHABA. 


MOBILE: 
Faerow  &  Dennett,  prs.,  No.  3  North  Water-st. 

1861. 


Resolved,  That  1000  copies  of  the  Sermon  dehv- 
ered  by  the  Rev.  Geo.  F.  Cushman,  D.  D.,  at  the 
request  of  the  Clergy,  before  the  Convention  of  the 
Diocese  of  Alabama,  on  Saturday,  the  4th  day  of 
May,  1861,  commemorative  of  the  life,  services  and 
character  of  our  late  Right  Reverend  Father  in  God, 
N.  H.  CoBBS,  D.  D.,  be  printed. 


SERMON. 


In  the  Gospel  according  to  St.  John,  1  chapter, 
47th  verse, 

"Behold  an  Israelite  indeed,  in  ■whom  is  no  guile." 

In  the  midst  of  our  Christmas  Festival,  when  the 
significant  evergreen  decked  our  walls,  and  loud  an- 
thems of  praise  ascended  from  our  hearts,  mingled 
with  them,  were  heard  the  wailing  notes  of  a  funeral 
dirge;  with  our  festal  wreaths,  we  were  called  to 
twine  the  mournful  cypress,  meet  emblems  both,  of 
the  warp  and  woof  of  human  life.  While  words  of 
hope  and  joy  still  dwelt  upon  our  tongues,  while  the 
wreathed  cross  and  mitre,  the  symbols  of  a  Church 
that  never  dies,  and  of  the  succession  of  the  Apostles, 
that  is  never  broken,  met  our  eyes,  tidings  of  a  sor- 
row, as  profound  as  ever  touched  the  human  heart, 
broke  upon  our  ears.  In  the  city  of  his  residence, 
in  the  bosom  of  his  family,  his  last  prayers  winged 
with  the  faith,  and  hope,  and  peace,  that  had  pervaded 
his  life,  his  last  thoughts  given  to  his  Diocese  and  his 
God,  with  most  touching  words  of  blessing  and  of 
counsel,  our  good  Bishop,  our  chief  earthly  Shepherd, 
our  revered  Father  and  Friend,  the  self-denying,  the 


4 

holy,  the  humble  man  of  God  was  ciitering  upon  his 
last  struggle,  and  achieving  his  last  triumph,  the  tri- 
umph over  the  povi^ers  of  death  and  hell.  To  him, 
to  die  was  gain;  to  us,  death  was  the  mighty  victor, 
and  in  the  very  zenith  of  our  joy,  the  waves  of  sor- 
row overwhelmed  us,  and  we  exchanged  the  garments 
of  praise  for  the  spirit  of  heaviness.  Not  a  family, 
not  a  church,  not  many  churches,  but  a  whole  Dio- 
cese, clergy  and  laity,  men,  women  and  children,  were, 
by  one  sudden  stroke,  orphaned  and  bereaved.  Mourn- 
ers all,  most  fittingly  did  the  drapery  of  woe  tell  the 
world,  of  stricken  hearts,  bowed  in  grief  and  affliction, 
under  the  chastisement  of  our  God. 

Nor  have  we  sorrowed  alone.  From  all  parts  of 
the  Church,  and  from  all  orders  of  men,  from  the 
Peaks  of  Otter,  in  the  great  Western  valley,  in  the 
North,  from  the  fertile  plains  of  our  own  sister  States, 
has  ascended  the  same  wail  of  woe,  the  lamentation 
for  a  Prince,  and  a  great  man  fallen  in  Israel.  Grate- 
ful tributes  to  his  memory  and  his  worth  have  flown 
in,  as  numerous  as  spontaneous,  all  bearing  the  same 
burden,  all  testifying  to  the  power  of  holiness  in  his 
life,  and  to  the  kind  providence  in  his  death,  by  which 
the  righteous  was  taken  from  the  evil  to  come. 

Such  a  manifestation  of  sorrow,  such  tributes  to  the 
dead  in  Christ,  are  not  only  consonant  to  our  feelings, 
they  not  only  fall  soothingly  upon  bruised  and  break- 
ing hearts,  but  they  are  accordant  with  the  teachings 


of  the  Church,  in  all  lands  and  in  every  age.  The 
Communion  of  Saints  is  one  of  the  fundamental  arti- 
cles of  her  faith,  not  only  of  the  Saints  who  are  still 
pilgrims  and  sojourners  on  the  earth,  but  of  those  who 
rest  from  their  labors.  They  rest,  but  their  works  do 
follow  them,  and 

,  "Angels,  and  living  Saints,  and  dead, 

But  one  communion  make." 

In  St.  Paul's  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews,  we  have  the 
long  catalogue  of  those,  of  whom  the  world  was  not 
worthy,  still  held  up  to  us,  to  be,  under  Christ,  our 
exemplars  and  guides.  In  the  most  sacred  office  of 
our  worship,  when  we  kneel  around  the  emblems  of 
the  broken  body  and  shed  blood  of  our  dying  Lord, 
or  when  we  stand  as  it  were  upon  the  very  verge  of 
eternity,  by  an  open  grave,  with  thankful  hearts  we 
are  called  to  commemorate  the  lives  and  deaths  of 
those,  who  have  fought  the  fight,  and  gained  the 
crown.  Being  dead  they  yet  speak,  and  before  our 
eyes  is  fulfilled  the  prophecy  of  the  Psalmist,  that 

"The  sweet  remembrance  of  the  just, 
Shall  flourish,  when  he  sleeps  in  dust." 

And  when  was  a  subject  more  worthy  of  a  tribute, 
than  the  man  of  God,  whose  life  and  death  we  now 
commemorate,  the  Israelite  without  guile;  when  one 
to  whom  could  better  be  applied  the  testimonies  of 
inspiration  to  the  perfection  of  the  saints  1  Did  Abra- 
ham talk  with  God  on  the  plains  of  Mamre,  did  Enoch 
walk  with  Him;  what  was  their  life,  but  like  his,  a 


6 

life  of  holiness  and  prayer?  Did  the  dying  Jacob 
gather  himself  up  in  his  bed,  and  leaning  upon  the 
top  of  his  staiF,  bless  his  children?  Suffer  us,  a  mo- 
ment, to  unveil  the  sacred  secrets  of  yonder  chamber 
of  death.  There  lay  the  aged  father  and  Bishop,  his 
frame  wasted,  his  strength  exhausted,  liy  months  of 
painful  suffering  and  disease.  Already  had  he  entered 
into  the  dark  valley  and  shadow  of  death!  But  he 
could  not  die,  without  once  more  beholding  the  chil- 
dren of  his  love ;  with  them,  and  with  the  wife  of  his 
youth,  he  must  break  the  sacramental  bread.  They 
are  gathered  from  far,  his  daughters,  his  sons,  his  sons- 
in-law,  and  their  wives  with  them.  In  a  kind  provi- 
dence, no  living  child  was  missing.  Together  they 
knelt  around  that  sacred  bed,  together  they  all  par- 
took of  that  last  sacrament;  ail,  save  one,  whose  ten- 
der years  precluded — and  when  leaning  upon  his 
elbow,  the  aged  father  raised  his  attenuated  hand,  and 
invoked  the  blessing  of  Heaven,  the  peace  of  God, 
which  passeth  all  understanding,  fell  sweetly  upon  his 
own  soul.  He  realized  the  truth  of  the  promise,  that 
the  righteous  should  not  be  forsaken,  and  that  his  seed 
should  not  in  vain,  beg  their  bread,  the  bread  of  Hea- 
ven; and  with  gushing  tears  of  thankful  joy,  he  could 
exclaim :  behold  Lord,  here  am  I,  and  those  that  thou 
hast  given  me.  It  was  a  scene  which  might  well  re- 
mind us  of  dying  patriarchs.  Not  afar  off,  did  he  re- 
semble those  elder  saints.     Like  David,  a  man  after 


7 

God's  own  heart;  like  Daniel,  a  man  of  prayer;  like 
Nathaniel,  an  Israelite  without  guile;  like  St.  John, 
full  of  tenderness  and  love;  like  St.  Stephen,  a  good 
man,  and  full  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  of  faith,  he 
might  well  have  feared  the  woe,  denounced  by  our 
Lord  when  all  men  speak  well  of  thee,  had  not,  as  in 
the  case  of  the  prophet,  occasion  been  taken  to  fmd 
fault  with  him  concerning  the  Lord  his  God.  He 
contended  valiantly  for  Christ,  and  won  the  universal 
meed  of  praise;  he  contended  no  less  for  the  Church, 
the  body  of  Christ,  and  he,  who  never  had  in  his  heart, 
a  thought  of  party  enmity  and  strife,  incurred  partisan 
censure  and  reproach. 

He  was  a  man  of  God  from  his  youth,  and  the 
whole  course  of  his  life  did  but  develop  and  mature 
those  natural  germs  of  character,  which  were  made 
perfect  by  grace.  As  in  the  sainted  Griswold,  it  was 
difficult  to  say  in  him,  where  nature  ended,  and  where 
grace  began,  so  happily  were  they  combined;  and  if 
he  was  thought  ever  to  set  an  undue  value  upon  the 
baptism  and  catechetical  instruction  of  the  Church,  it 
was  because  he  felt  himself  so  much  their  debtor;  be- 
cause, like  Timothy,  by  his  mother  and  grandmother, 
he  had  been  early  trained,  in  wisdom's  ways.  The 
seeds  were  thus  implanted  which,  in  after  years,  pro- 
duced so  abundant  a  harvest  of  good  to  himself  and 
the  Church;  impressions  were  thus  made,  which  no 
adverse  influences  ever  impaired  or  destroyed.    It  was 


8 

to  these  two  facts,  liis  baptism  and  liis  catechetical 
training,  that  he  himself  attributed,  under  God,  his 
life,  as  a  Christian  Minister  and  Bishop. 

The  Rt.  Rev.  Nicholas  Hamner  Cobbs,  D.  D.,  was 
born,  February  5th,  1796,  in  Bedford  County,  Virgi- 
nia, then  a  frontier  County  of  that  State.  The  Church 
in  Virginia,  at  that  time,  was  exceedingly  depressed, 
almost  destroyed.  If  her  services  were  kept  alive  in 
the  larger  cities,  her  missionaries  either  had  no  exis- 
tence, or  had  never  penetrated  into  the  remote  regions 
of  Bedford.  It  was  only  by  a  long,  laborious  journey, 
that  the  young  child  could,  by  baptism,  be  gathered 
into  the  fold  of  Christ;  and  it  was  the  last  Church 
privilege  he  enjoyed  until  he  reached  the  years  of 
manhood.  He  never  heard,  he  never  saw  an  Episco- 
pal minister;  he  did  not  so  much  as  own  a  copy  of  the 
Prayer  Book.  No  one  who  has  ever  heard  it,  can 
forget  the  description  of  his  joy,  when  amidst  the  rub- 
bish of  a  country  store,  a  copy  was  at  last  found,  nor 
how  willingly  he  parted  with  a  silver  dollar,  then  and 
to  him  a  large  sum,  for  the  long  coveted  treasure,  nor 
the  diligence,  with  which  its  pages  were  studied,  as 
the  best  commentary  upon  the  Holy  Scriptures,  until 
with  Adam  Clark,  he  could  say,  "that  next  to  the  Bi- 
ble, it  was  the  book  of  his  understanding  and  his 
heart." 

His  other  early  opportunities  were  no  less  limited. 
It  was  not  a  day  of  Academies  and  Colleges.     In  an 


9 

"old  field  School,"  under  the  rigid  discipline  of  a 
Scotch  Presbyterian  schoolmaster,  for  whose  memo- 
ry, he  ever  felt  a  profound  respect,  he  laid  the  deep 
foundations  of  what  was  afterwards  a  ripe,  not  to  say 
a  critical  scholarship.  It  was  here,  he  acquired  that 
broad  Scotch  pronunciation,  which  often  character- 
ised him,  and  that  accuracy  of  ear,  for  a  false  quanti- 
ty, whether  in  Latin,  or  in  English,  which  his  Clergy 
and  Candidates  for  Orders  have  so  much  reason  to  re- 
member. But  limited  as  these  opportunities  were,  and 
they  were  all  the  educational  training  he  ever  had,  save 
such  as  was  self-acquired,  they  were  not  continued 
long.  At  the  early  age  of  seventeen,  we  find  him 
thrown  upon  his  own  resources,  and  he  himself  be- 
came a  teacher,  a  calling  which  he  laboriously  and 
faithfully  pursued,  during  all  the  best  years  of  his  life. 

It  was  during  those  years  that  he  found,  and  reap- 
ed the  benefit  of  the  few  private  libraries,  scattered 
among  the  families  of  that  part  of  Virginia.  The 
clergy,  mostly  from  the  mother-land,  had  brought  with 
them  many  of  the  treasures  of  EngHsh  theology,  and 
the  ponderous  tomes  had  become  precious  heir  looms, 
which  like  coats  of  arms,  were  handed  down  from  fa- 
ther to  son.  The  youthful  teacher,  the  toils  of  the 
day  ended,  made  the  leisure,  as  he  had  the  taste,  to 
delve  long  and  deep,  amid  those  buried  mines  of  learn- 
ing ;  he  slaked,  if  he  could  not  altogether  quench  his 
thirst,  in  "those  pure  wells  of  English  undefiled." 


10 

Mnltiun  non  multa,  was  his  motto,  and  again  and  again, 
he  re-perused  those  few  great  fohos,  until  the  maste- 
ry of  their  contents  repaid  his  toil.  Thus,  among  the 
Peaks  of  Otter,  by  the  light  of  his  midnight  lamp,  the 
voluminous  works  of  those  who  were  the  great  bul- 
warks of  the  Reformation,  were  the  subject  of  his 
study  and  thought,  until  he  became,  himself  a  work- 
man thoroughly  furnished. 

Bishop  CoBBS  was  never  a  man  to  make  a  display 
of  his  reading  and  learning.  His  ambition  never  ran 
in  that  direction;  but  to  his  friends,  to  those  who  were 
admitted  to  his  familiar  converse,  and  to  whom  he 
brought  out  treasures  new  and  old,  he  appeared,  as  he 
truly  was,  not  only  a  christian  Bishop,  but  a  Scholar 
and  a  learned  Divine.  His  zeal  and  industry  atoned 
for  his  want  of  early  opportunities,  and  in  the  Classics, 
in  English  Theology,  in  Church  History,  and  in  Pa- 
tristic Lore,  he  was  no  mean  proficient.  Never  man 
rated  higher  the  value  of  learning,  no  one  labored 
more  to  raise  its  drooping  standard  in  our  land.  If 
in  these  later  days  he  was  the  earnest  and  unfailing 
advocate  of  our  own  great  University  of  the  South,  it 
was  because  he  saw  in  it  the  realization  of  his  hopes 
and  dreams;  because  there  he  believed  the  twin  sis- 
ters, religion  and  learning,  were  to  walk  hand  in  hand, 
until  they  attained  such  fulness  of  stature,  as  the  world 
had  not  yet  seen. 

It  was  amid  such  toil  and  such  recreation,  a  teacher 


11 

by  tlay,  and  a  painful  student  by  niglit,  that  Bishop 
CoBBS  passed  his  earliest  years.  Soon  he  found  press- 
ing upon  him  the  great  question  of  his  vocation  in 
life.  From  early  youth,  influences  alien  to  the  Church, 
had  surrounded  him.  The  Church  herself,  in  her  de- 
pressed condition,  cast  down  but  not  destroyed,  could 
offer  but  little  inducement  to  a  worldly  mind;  for 
ambition,  she  had  no  glittering  prize.  To  share  her 
lot,  to  take  part  in  her  ministry,  was  to  share  her  po- 
verty and  reproach.  To  lead  such  a  forlorn  hope, 
required  no  little  heroism.  The  question,  however, 
was  soon  settled.  If  there  was  ever  a  doubt  in  his 
mind,  which  we  neither  affirm  nor  deny,  it  was  deter- 
mined without  long  debate  for  the  faith  in  which  he 
had  been  baptised,  for  the  Church  in  Virginia,  which 
however  fallen  and  decayed,  was  still  the  Church  of 
Christ.  In  1824,  we  find  him  at  Staunton,  applying 
to  be  admitted  to  the  holy  order  of  Deacons.  He 
had  yet  to  be  confirmed  and  partake  of  his  first  com- 
munion; but  once  before,  we  believe,  had  he  witness- 
ed the  service  of  the  Church.  Such,  however,  was 
his  spotless  character,  such  the  testimonials  he  bore 
from  neighbors  and  friends,  such  the  necessities  of 
the  Church  in  Virginia — the  very  application  was  the 
best  proof  of  the  sincere  and  self-denying  piety  of  the 
applicant — that  all  technical  considerations  were  over- 
ruled. He  was  ordained  Deacon,  by  the  Rt.  Rev. 
Bishop  Moore,  in  Trinity  Church,  Staunton,  May  23, 


12 

1824,  and  the  same  day  was  confirmed,  and  for  the 
first  time  communed. 

The  object  of  his  laborious  journey  thus  happily 
accomplished,  he  returned  to  his  native  Bedford,  which 
was  thenceforth  to  be  the  scene  of  his  labors.  No 
Parish,  no  Church  edifice,  awaited  his  coming,  no 
comfortable  stipend  was  provided  for  his  support,  no 
little  band  of  communicants  was  there  to  cheer  his 
hopes.  The  Church,  whose  minister  he  had  become, 
retained  hardly  a  traditional  reverence  and  love.  It 
was  emphatically,  missionary  ground,  a  virgin  soil. 
A  young  wife,  now  his  honored  and  revered  relict,  a 
growing  family  looked  to  him  only,  for  support.  One 
fact  was  thus  made  clear,  he  could  not  relax  his  daily 
toil.  He  must  live,  if  he  would  work  for  Christ;  he 
could  only  live,  as  did  St.  Paul,  by  the  labor  of  his 
hands.  He  felt  no  less,  that  a  woe  was  upon  him,  if 
he  preached  not  the  Gospel.  A  wide  and  perishing 
field  was  before  him,  and  he  must  enter  upon  its  ar- 
duous labors.  He  did  enter  upon  it,  with  Christian 
faith  and  courage  and  zeal.  He  put  his  hand  to  the 
plough,  and  he  had  as  little  wish,  as  thought,  to  look 
back.  In  the  intervals  of  his  daily  toil,  in  private 
parlors,  in  empty  mills,  near  at  home,  a  hundred  and 
fifty  miles  away,  to  gathered  crowds,  to  two  or  three, 
he  proclaimed  Christ,  and  His  Church, — he  reared 
the  standard  of  the  Cross.  In  his  public  ministra- 
tions, in  his  private  intercourse,  in  the  social  circle,  at 


13 

the  bedside  of  the  sick  and  dying,  the  everlasting 
gospel  was  his  theme.  Like  the  Apostles,  he  went 
out  without  scrip;  like  them,  he  ministered  from 
house  to  house,  looking  to  God  only  for  his  reward. 

The  people  had  known  him  from  his  youth  up,  and 
then,  as  always,  he  had  a  good  report  of  them  with- 
out.    An  interest  was  soon  awakened  in  the  Church, 
whose  self-sacrificing  minister  he  was.     Friends  ga- 
thered around  it,  and  in  the  first  year  of  his  labors, 
he  not  only  was  made  hopeful  by  the  prospects  of  the 
future,  but  by  the  substantial  results  of  the  present. 
In  another  year,  hard,  laborious,  five  days  in  school, 
two  spent  in  the  service  of  the  Church,  seeking  at  far 
outlying  stations  the  lost   sheep  of  Israel,  and  two 
brick  Churches,  in  what  had  been  the  wilderness  of 
Bedford,  crowned  the  landscape.     The  two  have  since 
become  four,  and  one  of  them,  Hamner  Parish,  called 
by  his  name,  will  hand  down  to  latest  generations,  the 
memory  of  Bedford's  faithful  missionary.     Thus  had 
he  toiled,  taking  no  thought  for  himself,  having  no 
care  for  objects  beyond  his  own  sphere  of  labor,  and 
to  his  astonishment  and  surprise,  though  not  to  ours, 
the  fame  he  would  not  seek,  sought  him.     He  was 
a  burning  and  shining  fight,  and  could  not  be  hid. 
Other  fields  prayed  for  such  a  husbandman,  other 
flocks  wished  for  such  a  shepherd.      He  had  been 
scarce  two  years  ordained,  but  one  year  a  priest,  when 
wc  hear  that  apostolic  man,  Bishop  Mooke,  whose 


14 

testimony  is  equivalent  to  words  of  graven  gold,  say- 
ing: 

*  "Since  the  ordination  of  Mr,  Cobbs,  several  offers  have  been 
"made  to  him,  by  the  acceptance  of  either  of  which,  his  situation 
"would  certainly  have  been  improved,  but  with  a  magnanimity  of 
"mind,  which  rendered  him  superior  to  pecuniary  considerations, 
"and  with  that  regard  to  the  infant  state  of  the  Church,  which  re- 
" fleets  the  greatest  credit  on  his  piety,  he  declined  them  all,  and 
"determined  to  remain  in  his  present  situation." 

The  circumstance  was  characteristic  of  the  man. 
Bishop  Cobbs  was  never  one  to  confer  with  flesh  and 
blood,  no  selfish  thought  ever  found  harbor  in  his 
heart.  Here  were  a  few  sheep  in  the  wilderness, 
and  he  never  seemed  to  question,  but  he  must  stay, 
to  guard  the  flock,  which  he  himself  had  gathered; 
here  was  an  ample  field,  and  it  never  entered  into  his 
mind,  at  whose  cost  it  was  cultivated.  So,  for  fifteen 
years,  he  stood  manfully  at  his  post;  his  life,  health, 
strength,  and  talents,  all  consecrated  upon  an  altar,  that 
knew  no  interested  thought,  or  act.  Into  the  de- 
tails of  those  years,  we  will  not  enter,  nor  is  there 
need.  He  worked  ever,  by  one  pattern  and  rule. 
We  have  already  given  the  testimony  of  Bishop  Moore. 
In  1830,  Bishop  Meade  speaks  no  less  grateful  words. 
Reporting  a  visitation  to  his  Parish,  he  says: 

f  "I  cannot  leave  this  parish,  without  noticing  how  the  rich  l^lcss- 
"  ing  of  heaven  has  been  poured  out,  on  the  zealous  exertions  and 
"affectionate  preaching  of  Mr.  Cobbs.  But  a' few  years  since,  and 
"there  were  not  more  than  two  or  three  comnmnicants  in  the 
"County,  and  not  a  place  of  public  worship  belonging  to  the  Church; 

*  Hawks'  Journals  Virginia  Convention,  pp.  19C-7. 
t  Hawks'  Journals  of  Virginia  Convention,  p.  211. 


15 

"now  there  are  more  than  seventy  communicants,  and  three  places 
"of  public  worship,  where  sei'vicc  is  regularly  performed,  besides 
"many  private  houses,  which  are  freely  thrown  open  for  religious 
"  exercises.  But  what  is  far  more  important  is,  that  good  evidence 
"  is  afforded  of  the  prevalence  of  real  piety,  and  it  is  pleasing  to 
"perceive  the  animation  and  holy  zeal,  with  which  the  services  of 
"the  Church  are  conducted." 

It  was  during  these  laborious  years  of  parochial  life, 
that  those  conservative  and  sound  views  of  the  Church, 
in  the  profession  of  which,  Bishop  Cobbs  afterwards 
lived  and  died,  were  developed  and  matured.  He  had 
imbibed  them  from  the  fountain  head,  from  the  great 
exponents  of  the  English  Church,  and  from  the  Word 
of  God.  The  adverse  influences,  which  surrounded 
him,  had,  it  may  be,  for  awhile  kept  them  in  abeyance, 
and  it  was  not  until  the  experience  of  parish  life  had 
taught  him,  that  the  truest  practice  can  only  be  com- 
bined with  the  truest  theory,  that  they  assumed  their 
normal  place  in  his  mind  and  heart.  To  preach 
Christ  was  his  first  duty,  as  it  was  his  chief  pleasure; 
to  preach  the  Church  was  a  duty  no  less.  They  were 
parts  of  one  whole,  and  the  question  did  not,  could 
not  rise  in  his  mind,  which  of  the  two  he  should  for- 
bear to  press.  His  office  was  to  proclaim  the  whole 
counsel  of  Grod.  It  was  not  only  duty,  even  in  Bed- 
ford, he  believed  it  policy.  In  the  field  of  labor  in 
which  God  had  placed  him,  amid  the  diversities  of 
heresy  and  schism,  with  multiplying  sects  on  every 
side,  necessity  constrained  him  to  set  forth  plainly  and 
distinctly  the  divine  origin  and  apostolic  claims  of  "the 


16 

sect  everywhere  spoken   against."     In  his  report  to 

the  Virginia  Convention  of  1833,  he  says: 

*  "Some  valuable  additions  have  been  made  to  the  Communion; 
"the  members  generally  are  becoming  more  decidedly  attached  to 
"  the  distinctive  principles  and  doctrines  of  the  Church.  In  obedi- 
"ence  to  a  resolution  of  the  last  Convention,  the  Rector  has  en- 
"deavored,  by  the  circulation  of  Episcopal  boolcs  and  tracts,  to  in- 
" struct  the  people  in  the  true  principles  of  the  Church;  a  duty, 
"  the  importance  and  necessity  of  which,  he  has  been  taught  by 
"painful  experience.  There  is  also  another  cause  for  encourage- 
"  ineut,  in  the  proofs  of  an  increasing  confidence  in  the  soundness  of 
"our  doctrines,  and  the  piety  of  our  members.  Plainly  many  are 
"beginning  to  see,  in  these  perilous  times,  when  dangerous  heresies 
"are  boldly  propagated,  and  when  contention  and  strife,  with  many 
"other  fruits  of  the  flesh,  are  encouraged  by  the  divisions  of  new 
"sects,  continually  multiplying,  that  our  ancient  Church  presents 
"to  the  humble  and  honest  inquirer  after  truth,  a  place  of  quiet 
"  and  an  ark  of  safety." 

The  trumpet,  we  think,  gives  no  uncertain  sound. 
These  views  so  announced,  his  views  upon  the  sacra- 
ments, and  especially  upon  Baptismal  Regeneration, 
in  the  belief  of  which,  he  stood  side  by  side  with 
Bishop  Moore,  his  thorough  reception  of  the  doctrine 
of  the  Apostolic  Succession,  his  later  attempts  at  Pe- 
tersburg, to  revive  the  long  disused  Holy  Days  of  the 
Church,  his  acknowledged  teachings  in  the  pulpit  and 
in  private,  furnish  all  the  proof  we  need,  that  as  a 
Churchman,  he  was  an  Israelite  without  guile.  Bishop 
CoBBS  was  never  one  to  stir  up  controversy  and  strife. 
In  his  unaffected  humility,  in  his  gentleness,  and  love 
of  peace,  he  never,  unnecessarily,  obtruded  adverse 
opinions  upon  the  attention  of  others.     He  was  not 

♦  Hawks'  Journals  of  Virginia  Convention,  p.  298. 


17 

a  man  of  positive  assertions,  be  rather  hinted,  than 
expressed  a  difference,  he  dwelt  in  social  converse 
upon  points  of  harmony  and  nnion.  To  some,  he 
might  seem  to  waver  and  to  yield,  when  no  rock  was 
firmer.  It  was  so  in  all  thini^s.  In  all  his  intercourse 
with  his  clergy,  in  his  Episcopal  Addresses,  in  con- 
verse with  a  vain  student,  an  aged  servant,  a  brother 
Bishop,  the  same  characteristic  appears,  the  same 
christian  modesty  spake  from  his  tongue.  Dogmatism 
was  no  element  of  his  character.  When  other  men 
affirmed,  he  perhaps  would  speak  by  interrogation, 
but  his  question  implied  no  less  certainty  than  their 
solemn  oaths.  He  was  not  arrogant,  opinionative,  po- 
sitive, but  he  was  firm  and  decided.  Let  principle 
be  involved,  and  no  appliances  could  move  him.  We 
repeat,  the  trumpet  gave  no  uncertain  sound.  The 
views  of  the  Church,  and  of  her  doctrines,  learned 
by  painful  study  in  the  Word  of  God  and  the  Book 
of  Prayer,  and  confirmed  by  the  experience  of  a  pa- 
rish priest,  which  had  gradually  and  surely  matured 
in  the  earlier  years  of  his  ministry,  were  the  rule  of 
his  life,  as  they  were  among  his  chief  consolations  in 
death. 

During  the  later  years  of  his  residence  at  Bedford, 
Bishop  CoBBS  was  appointed  by  the  Convention  of 
the  Diocese,  Chaplain  to  the  University  of  Virginia. 
The  request  that  such  appointments  should  be  made, 
to  the  joy  of  many  hearts,  had  come  from  the  Univer- 


18 

sity  itself.  From  its  origin  its  relations,  not  to  the 
Church,  but  to  our  common  Christianity,  had  been 
most  sensitive  and  delicate.  A  dark  shadow  of  sus- 
picion rested  upon  it,  as  if  its  object  had  been  no  less 
the  promotion  of  scepticism  and  infidelity,  than  of 
learning.  As  a  sequence  of  our  connection  with 
France,  during  the  Revolutionary  war,  and  of  the  sub- 
sequent overthrow  in  that  country,  of  all  respect  for 
religion  and  law,  the  principles  of  jacobinism  had  ob- 
tained an  extraordinary  foothold  in  our  land.  To  the 
ignorant,  the  unwary,  and  the  young  they  came,  in 
what  seemed  the  guise  of  friendship  and  gratitude. 
It  was  to  meet  such  a  state  of  things,  that  Chaplains 
were  first  required.  When  now  in  her  turn,  appHca- 
tion  was  made  to  the  Church  in  Virginia,  the  general 
voice  pointed  to  the  humble  priest  of  Bedford,  as  the 
man  who  possessed  the  needed  qualifications,  for  so 
responsible  a  post.  The  simplicity  of  his  character, 
the  purity  of  his  life,  the  saintliness,  which  stood  out 
in  every  thought  and  word  and  deed,  the  spiritual  unc- 
tion of  his  earnest  and  persuasive  eloquence,  which, 
though  not  endowed  with  the  graces  of  oratory  and 
art,  went  direct  to  the  heart,  his  zeal  and  energy,  his 
talents  and  scholarship,  all  commanded  the  respect 
and  love  of  the  young  intellect  gathered  there.  Brief 
as  was  his  Chaplaincy,  it  resulted  in  great  benefit  to 
the  University  and  to  the  Church,  and  in  an  increas- 
ed reputation  and  honor  to  himself,  and  at  its  close, 


19 

despite  the  rule  of  denominational  rotation,  request 
was  made,  that  his  term  of  service  might  be  renewed. 
After  the  lapse  of  so  many  years,  he  is  still  remem- 
bered with  afTection  in  those  classic  walls,  and  his 
name  is  handed  reverently  down,  as  the  name  of  the 
Chaplain,  who  was  an  Israelite  indeed,  in  whom  was 
no  guile. 

But  the  time  had  come,  when  Bishop  Cobbs  must 
bid  farewell  to  his  first,  perhaps  his  best  loved  field 
of  labor.  He  must  turn  his  back  ujDon  those  Peaks 
of  Otter,  in  whose  shadow,  as  he  was  born,  so  he  had 
hoped  to  live  and  die.  There  he  had  passed  his  early 
years — there  he  had  labored,  and  seen  the  fruits  of 
his  labor — where  once  were  none,  a  hundred  commu- 
nicants now  kneeled.  He  had  twined  himself  around 
the  hearts  of  that  people,  with  cords  of  love  that  no 
change  of  time  or  circumstance  could  sunder.  With 
spontaneous  affection  they  loved  him  in  word  and  deed, 
and  a  farm  of  two  thousand  dollars'  value  was,  in  part, 
their  thank-offering  for  the  sacrifices  he  had  made. 
His  very  presence  brought  to  them  comfort,  and  joy, 
and  protection,  and  they  felt  safer,  for  seeing  the  man 
of  God  pass  daily  by.  It  was  the  divine  will,  they 
must  give  him  up,  but  it  could  only  be  with  streaming 
eyes  and  breaking  hearts.  Their  love  could  know  no 
diminution.  Other  men  might  occupy,  it  was  still  his 
parish;  to  them  always,  the  Bishop  of  Alabama,  was 
the  Priest  of  Bedford.     What  a  scene  was  that,  when 


20 

he  visited  the  home  of  his  nativity,  a  Bishop  in  the 
Church  of  God;  when  he  laid  his  hands,  first  upon 
the  eldest  daughter  of  his  heart  and  love,  now  we 
trust  a  saint  in  heaven,  and  then  upon  the  aged  father, 
who  had  waited  thus  long  for  the  consolation  of  Israel. 
It  was  a  time  of  mingled  sorrow  and  joy.  The  young 
men  wept,  the  strong  men  bowed  themselves,  the 
mothers  and  daughters  in  Israel  would  have  gladly 
given  themselves  to  him,  who  had  sacrificed  so  much 
for  them.  Our  own  eyes  fill  with  tears,  the  pen  falls 
from  our  hand,  and  we  can  only  say,  if  he  was  much 
worthy,  Bedford  loved  much. 

But  he  had  outgrown  the  narrow  sphere;  weightier 
responsibilities  devolved  upon  him,  and  the  call  of  du- 
ty must  be  obeyed.  Owing  to  circumstances  which 
we  need  not  detail,  the  parish  at  Petersburg  had  come 
to  be  a  source  of  anxious  thought  to  the  then  Assis- 
tant Bishop  of  Virginia,  and  he  himself,  for  several 
months,  had  had  temporary  charge  of  it.  It  needed 
a  man  of  peculiar  qualifications,  and  he  urged  the  pa- 
rish upon  Bishop  Cobbs,  who  had  previously  declined 
a  call  to  the  Church  at  Norfolk.  He  entered  upon  it 
with  faith,  he  cultivated  it  with  diligence  and  zeal,  and 
the  qualities,  which  had  given  him  his  first  success, 
still  followed  him,  and  the  new  parish  reaped  the  fruits. 
Difficulties  were  harmonized,  the  Church  was  built 
up  in  numbers  and  in  faith.  The  four  years  he  spent 
there,  were  like  years  of  Pentecost.     Soon  his  Church 


21 

would  not  hold  the  worshipjjers,  and  a  new  parish  was 
organized,  and  a  new  Church  built  by  his  congrega- 
tion. As  in  his  first,  so  in  his  second  parish,  he  ac- 
quired the  strongest  hold  upon  the  hearts  of  his  peo- 
ple. They  loved  him  with  an  enthusiasm,  which  still 
survives,  for  he  served  them  in  the  day  of  the  "gene- 
ral awakening."     Says  Bishop  Meade, 

*  "His  ministry,  during  the  few  years  of  its  continuance,  was 
"  very  prosperous  in  all  respects.  During  that  period,  a  general 
"awakening  of  the  souls  of  the  people  of  Petersburg  took  place, 
"and  ministers  of  all  denominations  labored  faithfully,  in  prayers, 
"and  sermons,  and  exhortations,  private  and  public.  Instead  of 
"discouraging  such  extraordinary  efforts,  for  so  extraordinary  an 
"outpouring  of  the  Spirit  of  God,  as  was  granted,  Mr.  Cobbs  came 
"behind  none,  and  went  before  some,  in  the  frequency  of  his  reli- 
"gious  exercises.  The  result  was,  that  no  congregation  was  more 
"highly  blest  in  the  results  thereof.  I  laid  my  hands  on  the  heads 
"of  ninety-three  at  that  time,  who  for  the  last  three  months,  had 
"been  receiving  the  daily  instructions  of  their  minister,  either  pub- 
"lic  or  private,  and  of  such  other  7ninisters,  as  he  was  able  to  bring 
"to  his  help." 

His  ministry  at  Petersburg  continued  but  four 
years,  and  at  their  expiration,  Bishop  Cobbs  felt  con- 
strained, not  only  to  resign  his  parish,  but  painful  as 
was  the  severance,  to  bring  his  connection  with  the 
Diocese  of  Virginia  to  a  close.  In  that  Diocese,  as 
in  his  parishes,  he  had  for  nineteen  years  been  large- 
ly honored;  to  his  dying  day,  he  loved  it  with  Vir- 
ginia pride.  There  was  hardly  a  post  of  duty,  or  of 
responsibility,  which  he  had  not  been  called  to  fill. 
In  her  councils,  his  wise  caution,  his  prudent  fore- 

*  Bishop  Meade's  Old  Famillea  and  Churches  in  Virginia,  vol.  1,  p.  443. 


22 

sight,  his  temperate  zeal  were  ever  at  her  service; 
his  voice  was  ever  raised,  in  behalf  of  whatever  could 
promote  her  prosperity  and  harmony.     In  her  mis- 
sions, in  the  promotion  of  the  religious  instruction  of 
servants,  in  his  labors  for  her  educational  institutions, 
he  came  no  whit  behind  the  first  and  chiefest.     No 
man  had  a  wider  influence,  or  a  more  commanding 
position.     He  was  respected  by  the  clergy ;  it  is  not 
too  much  to  say,  that  he  was  the  idol  of  the  laity. 
When  then  it  was  proposed  to  elect  an  assistant  to 
Bishop  Meade,  it  surprised  no  one,  that  the  name  of 
Bishop  CoBBS  should  rise,  spontaneous  to  the  lips  of 
men;  it  surprised  many,  when  before  any  ballot  was 
had,  the  present  Bishop  of  North  Carolina  arose  in 
his  seat,  and  by  authority  announced,  that  Bishop 
CoBBS  could  not  suffer  his  name  to  be  put  in  nomina- 
tion.    Into  the  reasons  that  led  to  that  determination, 
we  do  not  propose  to  enter.     The  time  has  not  yet 
come,  it  may  never  come,  when  the  history  of  that 
transaction  can  be  truthfully  written,  without  partiali- 
ty and  without  prejudice.      It  was  a  subject  upon 
which  Bishop  Cobbs  was  studiedly  reticent  and  re- 
served, making  rare  allusions  to  it,  even  to  his  most 
confidential  friends.      He  was  a  man  of  peace,  he 
looked  upon  strife,  and  party  warfare,  as  he  did  upon 
sin;  as  the  bane  of  the  Church  and  the  destroyer  of 
souls.     We  can  not,  now  and  here,  so  disregard  the 
lesson  of  his  life,  as  to  enter  upon   the  controversy 


23 

which  has  arisen  over  his  grave.  Mindful  of  his  gen 
tleness,  his  meekness,  and  forbearance,  we  will  only 
say,  that  his  name  was,  at  his  own  instance,  with- 
drawn, and  for  the  sake  of  "the  things  that  make  for 
peace,"  he  was  thenceforth,  a  man  self-banished  from 
his  native  State.  If  after  that  withdrawal,  a  consi- 
derable minority  of  the  laity  still  voted  for  him,  if 
strong  men  wept,  in  the  bitterness  of  their  disappoint- 
ment, it  was  only  the  more  honorable  testimony,  to 
his  worth  and  their  love. 

Bishop  CoBBS  had  served  for  fifteen  years,  in  the 
General  Convention  of  the  Church,  as  one  of  the  Cler- 
ical Deputies  from  the  Diocese  of  Virginia.  In  1841, 
members  of  the  Church,  emigrants  to  Texas,  then  an 
Independent  Republic,  had  applied  to  the  Church  in 
the  United  States,  to  send  them  a  Bishop.  It  was  a 
post  of  very  great  responsibility  and  importance.  The 
House  of  Bishops,  zealous  ever  for  the  extension  of 
the  Church,  were  forward  to  comply  with  the  request, 
and  Bishop  Cobbs  was  by  them  nominated,  as  a  suit- 
able person  to  enter  upon  that  great  field.  From  mo- 
tives of  policy  and  expediency,  the  House  of  Clerical 
and  Lay  Deputies  declined  to  unite  in  the  prelimina- 
ry action  of  the  House  of  Bishops,  and  to  his  great  re- 
lief and  joy,  the  name  of  Bishop  Cobbs  was  not  sent 
down  to  them  for  confirmation.  Pending  that  matter, 
he  underwent  much  trouble  and  distress,  lest  the  stern 
mandate  of  duty  should  call  him,  in  the  acceptance  of 


24 

that  post,  to  the  sacrifice,  as  it  would  then  have  been, 
of  his  native  hind.  His  nomination  was  in  every  way 
honorable,  but  such  was  his  shrinking  modesty  and 
self  abnegation,  that  to  members  of  his  own  immediate 
family,  singular  as  it  may  seem,  the  knowledge  of  it 
has  only  come  from  other  sources  since  his  death.  He 
was  never  the  trumpeter  of  his  own  fame. 

It  was  in  1843  that  Mr.,  now  by  creation  of  Hobart 
College,  Geneva.  N.  Y.,  Dr.  Cobbs,  took  charge  of  St. 
Paul's  Church,  Cincinnati.  He  had  hardly  entered 
upon  his  duties  there,  when  the  Church  in  Indiana, 
hastened  to  ratify  the  endorsement  of  the  House  of 
Bishops,  of  his  suitableness  to  be  a  Bishop  in  the 
Church  of  Christ.  He  was  elected  to  that  office  by 
the  Clergy,  and  only  a  doubt  of  his  acceptance  of  the 
position  prevented  the  concurrence  of  the  Laity.  Thus 
happily,  he  was  reserved  for  us,  and  in  May,  1844,  at 
Greensboro',  the  Church  in  Alabama,  by  unanimous 
vote  of  her  Clergy  and  Laity,  invited  Dr.  Cobbs  to 
her  Episcopate.  We  were  then,  one  of  the  least  of 
the  tribes  of  Judah.  Like  his  first  parish,  Alabama 
was,  at  that  time,  with  emphasis,  missionary  ground; 
it  presented  almost  an  unbroken  soil.  A  Diocese  of 
fifty  thousand  square  miles,  destitute  of  even  the  few 
facilities  of  travel,  which  it  now  possesses,  a  Church 
in  its  very  infancy,  with  but  four  hundred  and  fifty 
communicants,  scattered  over  that  vast  surface,  with  a 
climate,  however  undeservedly,  of  bud  repute,  pledg- 


25 

ing  but  an  insufficient  support,  which  was  to  be  eked 
out  by  additional  labors  as  a  parish  minister,  could 
hold  out  no  tempting  prospect  to  a  man  of  large  fam- 
ily, who  was  comfortably  settled  in  the  great  Queen 
City  of  the  West.  Twice  before,  Alabama  had  filled 
its  vacant  headship,  so  far  as  election  could  go,  and 
for  reasons  which  no  one  dared  gainsay,  it  had  been 
declined.  Across  the  waters  of  the  Ohio,  was  heard 
by  Bishop  Cobbs,  the  Macedonian  cry,  "come  over 
and  help  us,"  a  cry  to  which  he  could  not,  would  not 
shut  his  ears.  God,  duty,  the  Church  said  go,  and  to 
hear  was  to  obey.  He  accepted  the  providential  call, 
was  consecrated  in  Philadelphia,  October  20,  1844, 
and  in  the  month  of  November,  had  already  entered 
upon  his  work,  his  great  venture  of  faith. 

From  that  day  until  he  was  taken  from  us,  his  man- 
ner of  life  is  known  to  us  all,  and  we  are  witnesses, 
and  God  also,  how  liolily,  and  justly,  and  unblamea- 
bly,  he  behaved  himself  among  us;  exhorting,  and 
comforting,  and  charging  every  one  of  us,  as  a  father 
doth  his  children,  that  we  should  walk  worthy  of  God. 
"We  do  not  propose  to  go  into  any  minute  history  of 
his  Episcopate,  nor  to  enter  into  any  particular  analy- 
sis of  his  character.  We  leave  the  first  for  his  future 
biographer  to  do;  we  shrink  from  any  attempt  at  the 
last,  when  we  remember  the  eloquent  tribute  of  the 
Bishop  of  Georgia,  and  the  brief  but  comprehensive 
resolutions  of  the  clergy.      In  our  remaining  space. 


2fi 

we  can  onl\-  point  out  some  of  the  more  obvious  facts 
and  traits  of  his  successful  adminisi ration  of  the  Dio- 
cese. 

We  notice  first  and  foremost,  llic  extraordinary 
hold,  Bishop  CoBBS  had  upon  the  affections  of  his 
people;  the  wonderful  union,  and  harmony,  which 
characterised  all  orders  and  degrees  of  men  under  his 
jurisdiction.  As  he  went  through  his  diocese,  every 
where  preaching  the  gospel,  as  well  by  his  presence 
as  his  words,  he  won  his  way  to  all  hearts.  He  in- 
tuitively inspired,  not  only  respect,  but  confidence 
and  love,  as  well  out  of,  as  in  the  Church.  "That  is  a 
good  man,  a  sincere  christian  man,"  was  the  one,  uni- 
versal voice.  In  his  presence,  before  his  lowly  piety, 
wickedness  itself  stood  abashed,  and  those  who  feared 
not  God,  nor  regarded  man,  respected  him.  Without 
compromising  a. principle,  he  acquired  the  good  will 
of  all,  and  when  he  approached,  contentions  for  modes 
of  faith  died  away  in  silence.  It  was  ever  in  his 
mind,  that  his  mission  was,  if  possible,  to  live  peace- 
ably with  all  men.  Ministers  of  an  alien  faith,  were 
his  friends  in  life,  they  stood  at  his  bedside,  to  learn 
how  a  Christian  Bishop  died,  they  paid  to  his  lifeless 
remains  the  last  offices  of  friendship  and  love.  Look 
to  his  writings,  listen  to  his  words,  and  he  spared  not 
to  proclaim  what  he  believed  to  be  the  counsel  of 
God;  but  he  made  no  enemies,  either  to  tiie  truth,  or 
to.  himself,  because  he  spake  the  truth  in  love. 


27 

But  it  vvas  in  the  Church,  that  our  Bishop  foutid 
the  strongest,  and  to  him  the  dearest  proofs  of  love. 
In  the  sixteen  years  of  his  Episcopate,  confidence  in 
him  never  for  a  moment  wavered,  but  grew  strongei' 
and  stronger,  until  the  day  of  his  death.  His  diocese 
stood  around  him,  as  one  man,  and  one  heart.  Never 
was  a  Bishop,  who  had  a  stronger  hold  upon  his  Cler- 
gy and  Laity; — it  was  a  revered  Father  and  loving 
children, — never  was  a  diocese  more  happily  nnited. 
His  will  was  ours,  his  shghtest  wish  was  to  us,  impe- 
rative as  law.  His  rule,  which  we  never  felt,  was  ab- 
solute, at  the  very  time  we  sighed,  that  he  would  not 
rule.  This  perhaps,  was  one  of  the  secrets  of  his 
great  influence;  what  he  would  not  seek,  vvas  freely 
given  to  him.  Most  remarkable  was  the  proof  of  our 
perfect  trust  in  him,  a  proof  without  precedent  in  the 
whole  history  of  our  confederate  Church,  when  two 
years  ago,  by  a  formal  vote  of  our  Convention,  as 
'unanimous  as  his  election  vvas,  the  entire  control  of 
our  Diocesan  Missions  was  confided  to  his  hands.  It 
was  a  confidence,  which  the  Church  of  the  Diocese 
nobly  endorsed  the  same  year,  by  doubling  its  contri- 
butions. It  was  then,  we  passed  the  formal  vote,  but 
that  vote  was  only  the  recorded  expression  of  what 
had  been,  from  the  beginning,  our  practice.  It  gave 
him  no  powers,  which  he  had  not,  by  general  appro- 
bation and  consent,  always  exercised. 

The  confidence  thus  reposed  in  Bishop  Cobbs  was 


■2S» 

Well  deserved,  and  especially  upon  the  part  of  his 
clergy.  He  had  them,  in  lite  and  in  death,  ever  in 
his  heart;  he  was  at  all  times,  their  considerate  help- 
er and  friend.  In  all  their  troubles  and  discourage- 
ments, in  their  hopes  and  joys,  they  found  in  him,  the 
truest  sympathy;  for  them  he  was  ever  ready  to 
make  any  sacrifice.  In  his  visitations,  he  labored  to 
strengthen  their  hands,  and  increase  their  intluence, 
rather  than  his  own;  again  and  again,  privately  and 
publicly,  he  lifted  up  his  voice,  to  protest  against  their 
inadequate  support.  It  was  one  of  the  cardinal  rules 
of  his  Episcopate,  that  he  was  to  be  the  father  and 
friend  of  his  clergy ;  he  never  failed  them.  The  sim- 
ple words,  "Bishop  come,"  would  start  him,  upon  a 
journey  of  a  hundred  miles  and  more,  to  suit  then- 
convenience  and  comfort.  He  Was  not  so  much  their 
overseer,  as  their  fellow  worker,  and  in  the  midst  of 
his  own  great  cares,  he  spared  not,  to  help  them  cul- 
tivate their  allotted  portion  of  the  Lord's  vineyard. 
He  came  not  merely  to  preach  and  confirm.  Not  in- 
frequently have  we  known  him,  in  a  few  days,  to  visit 
every  family  in  a  parish,  rich  and  poor,  to  leave  with 
all  a  word  of  counsel  and  a  blessing.  The  kindest 
love  thus  marked  all  his  intercourse  with  his  clergy 
and  diocese.  For  the  sorrowing  and  the  afflicted,  he 
had  the  most  tender  sympathy;  for  the  sinful  and  the 
erring,  the  most  forbearing  meekness  and  patience. 
He  strove  to  save,  not  destroy  the  lost  sheep;  to  bind 


29 

up,  and  not  bruise  the  breaking  heart;  to  console,  and 
not  repel  the  penitent.  Most  truly  did  he  so  admin- 
ister justice  as  not  to  forget  mercy,  and  if  ever  he  had 
occasion  to  act  as  judge,  it  was  so  that  he  himself 
seemed  to  endure  the  punishment,  and  he  thus  gained 
by  love  what  severity  had  lost.  With  such  a  Bishop 
there  could  be  no  room  for  discordant  views  and  divi- 
ded counsels,  and  it  was  not  the  least  of  his  merits 
that  in  his  diocese  the  voice  of  party  was  never  heard. 
He  prayed  for  the  peace  of  Jerusalem,  and  the  bles- 
sings of  peace  followed  him,  in  a  Church,  so  trained 
by  his  precepts  and  example,  that  like  Zion,  it  was  a 
city  at  unity  in  itself         • 

Bishop  CoBBS  in  accepting  the  Episcopate -of  Ala- 
bama, did  not  underrate  the  difficulties  he  would  have 
to  encounter  and  overcome.  He  counted  the  cost  be- 
fore he  began  to  build,  and  realized  that  it  was  a  ven- 
ture of  faith.  In  large  portions  of  the  diocese,  the 
Church  was  altogether  unknown;  in  other  parts,  the 
strongest  and  most  unfounded  prejudices  existed 
against  her.  Her  doctrines  were  not  understood;  her 
practice  was  misrepresented.  She  was,  they  said,  a 
cold,  formal,  dead  Church,  having  but  a  name  to  live, 
with  the  foi-m  of  godliness,  but  not  the  power.  That 
ignorance  was  to  be  enlightened,  that  prejudice  must 
be  lived  down  and  overcome.  Before  the  Church  in 
Alabama  could  have  any  real  growth,  or  acquire  any 
real  strength,  it  must  prove  its  claims  to  the  respect 


30 

ot  men.  It  must  shew  by  living  example,  as  well  as 
by  precept,  that  it  was  possible  for  a  Christian  man 
to  live  within  its  pale.  Upon  that  one  point,  all  her 
future  depended.  How  admirably  Bishop  Cobbs 
worked  out  that  theorem, — how  in  his  own  person,  he 
demonstrated  that  truth,  and  so  laid  the  foundation  of 
future  success,  we  all  know.  It  was  for  him  to  pre- 
pare the  soil,  and  sow  the  seed;  to  him  we  owe  the 
harvest  already  reaped,  and  shall  owe,  in  great  part 
at  least,  that  which  is  still  to  come.  Like  the  Apos- 
tle, "in  journeyings  often,"  in  protracted  absence  from 
home,  in  wearisome  waiting  upon  our  water  courses^ 
in  heat  and  cold,  over  roads,  to  which  even  courtesy 
could  scarce  give  the  name,  by  labors  that  might  well 
have  exhausted  more  rugged  men,  he  penetrated  intc 
every  part  of  his  large  diocese,  and  carried  with  him 
the  gospel  and  the  Church.  Says  Bishop  Elliott, 
"he  was  one  of  the  holiest  men,  I  ever  met."  He  so- 
wrought,  that  all  Alabama  met  him,  and  endorsed  the 
truth,  and  under  its  influence  the  diocese  grew  and 
flourished. 

Bishop  CoBBS  was  not  what  Latimer  would  call 
"an  unpreaching  prelate."  He  magnified  that  part  of 
his  office.  It  was  to  him  an  ordinance  of  the  gospel, 
and  he  was  never  so  much  at  home  as  when  in  the 
pulpit.  After  a  weary  journey,  it  was  rest  to  him,  at 
night,  to  proclaim  to  a  handful,  or  to  a  gathered  mul- 
titude, the  unsearchable  riches  of  Christ     His  preach'- 


31 

ing  was  plain,  simple,  and  direct.  He  sought  no  aid 
of  ornament,  he  indulged  in  no  flights  of  fancy,  he 
made  no  vain  display  of  learning.  He  preached 
Christ,  not  himself;  and  not  himself  preached  Christ, 
but  the  Church  through  him.  No  one  knew  this  dis- 
tinction better  than  he,  who  was  often  heard  to  say 
that  the  preacher  in  the  Church-  of  Christ,  was  no 
mere  man  of  thirty,  or  three  score,  but  a  man  hoary 
with  eighteen  hundred  years.  With  a  plain,  Saxon 
style,  which  was  all  his  own, — a  style  toned  down  by 
severe  discipline,  from  that  ornate  exuberance  of 
metaphor  and  ornament,  which  characterised  his  ear- 
lier productions,  when  poetry  and  song  guided  his 
pen,  and  warmed  his  heart;  with  a  peculiar  delivery, 
he  never  failed  to  arrest  attention,  and  to  reach  the 
heart.  There  have  been  few  preachers  more  eifec- 
tive.  If  not  an  orator  in  the  popular  sense,  he  had 
one  of  the  best  elements  of  oratory.  His  sermons 
were  realities;  he  believed  what  he  said.  Every 
word,  and  tone,  and  gesture  bore  the  impress  of  sin- 
cerity. His  sermons  were  brief,  confined  generally 
to  a  single  point,  and  at  their  close — it  is  the  truest 
test  of  merit — his  hearers  thought  not  of  the  speaker, 
but  of  themselves  and  their  sins;  they  turned  away, 
ever  with  the  purpose  of  repentance  and  amendment 
in  their  hearts,  and  with  its  expression  upon  their  lips. 
He  captivated,  not  their  intellects,  but  their  hearts, 
and  out  of  the  stores  of  his  large  experience,  the  Chris- 


32 

tiaii  was  edified  and  instructed,  and  the  sinful  persua- 
ded, and  eager  multitudes  hung  upon  his  words,  for 
he  spake  to  them  with  the  elocpience  of  sincerity  and 
truth,  and  with  the  power  of  God. 

Bishop  CoBBS  was  not  a  man  ambitious  of  author- 
ship; he  shrank  from  observation  with  a  woman's  ti- 
midity. Apart  fromliis  Episcopal  Addresses,  his  ap- 
pearances before  the  public  were  most  rare;  some 
seven  occasional  sermons  make  up  the  tale.  In  near- 
ly every  such  case,  his  words  sank  deep  into  the 
Christian  heart,  and  in  the  form  of  Tracts,  have  been 
widely  circulated,  some  of  them  in  many  editions. 
They  were  plain,  pointed,  practical,  the  fruit  of  ripen- 
ed wisdom,  and  long  experience,  and  of  that  rare  qual- 
ity, common  sense,  which  he  possessed  in  an  eminent 
degree.  The  same  remark  wqll  apply  to  his  Address- 
es to  his  Convention.  There  was  not  a  word  in  them 
lor  "display,  no  circumlocution,  no  sounding  phrase. 
He  seldom  traveled  beyond  the  record,  he  spake  for 
Alabama,  not  for  the  w^orld.  A  brief  detail  of  his  of- 
ficial acts;  brief  the  better  to  conceal  his  immense 
amount  of  w^ork;  a  few  plain,  practical  suggestions 
touching  the  interests  of  the  diocese,  and  the  analysis 
is  complete.  There  was  no  exordium,  no  peroration, 
very  seldom  such  a  digression,  as  when  his  heart  broke 
out  into  that  eloquent  tribute  to  the  memory  of  that 
"  great  hearted  shepherd,"  Bishop  Doane.  But  upon 
what  concerned  his  diocese,  what  w^ould  promote  its 


33 

interests,  we  had  line  upon  line;  here  he  never  wea- 
ried. His  warnings  to  his  clergy  against  pseudo- 
catholicity,  against  the  errors  of  Rome*  and  Geneva, 
against  all  innovations  upon  the  ancient  usages  of  the 
Church;  his  exhortations  to  combine  in  our  preach- 
ing, "evangelic  truth  with  apostolic  order,"  to  set 
forth,  side  by  side,  as  cardinal  truths,  the  doctrine  of 
justification  by  faith,  and  the  importance  of  the  sacra- 
ments and  offices  of  the  Church — the  body  and  soul 
of  Christ's  religion  as  he  termed  them — to  proclaim 
everywhere,  and  at  all  times,  Christ  and  His  Church, 
these  still  ring  in  our  ears, — may  their  influence  never 
die  in  our  hearts.  Our  Diocesan  Missions,  the  sub- 
ject of  his  last  as  of  his  first  Address  to  us,  our  Dioce- 
san School,  the  Religious  Instruction  of  Servants, 
which  had  been  the  life-long  subject  of  his  interest, 
the  Catechetical  Training  of  Children,  the  Widow 
and  Orphan's  Society,  the  Endowment  of  the  Episco- 
pate, the  due  Support  of  the  Clergy,  these  were  the 
themes  upon  which  he  dwelt,  themes  to  him  ever 
new,  because  ever  interesting,  l)ecause  upon  them  our 
growth  as  a  church  and  diocese  depended. 

No  notice  of  Bishop  Cobbs  could  do  him  justice, 
that  omitted  the  fact,  that  he  was  a  man  given  to  hos- 
pitaHty.  In  him,  it  was  a  virtue  in  excess.  There 
was  ever  a  seat  at  his  table  for  the  stranger  and  the 
friend;  in  his  house  guests  were  never  wanting.  It 
was  thronged  from  all  parts  of  the  diocese,  we  might 


^  M 

say,  from  all 'parts  of  the  land.  He  lived  to  make  oth- 
ers happy,  and  was  never  himself  so  happy,  as  when 
his  bounteous  board  was  crowded  with  many  friends. 
With  his  genial  spirit  and  kindly  heart,  for  in  his  re- 
ligion there  was  nothing  forbidding  or  morose,  he  en- 
tered into  their  feelings,  and  especially  of  the  young, 
and  made,  as  well  as  shared,  their  pleasure,  and  a  day 
at  the  Bishop's  was  always  a  day  of  joy. 

His  charity  was  as  unbounded  as  his  hospitality. 
It  was  not  in  his  heart  to  resist  any  appeal  of  distress, 
and  with  the  poor  he  would  have  shared  his  last  pen- 
ny, and  his  last  morsel  of  bread.  There  was  but  one 
measure  to  his  generosity,  the  limit  of  his  means  and 
power.  While  the  barrel  of  meal  wasted  not,  and  the 
cruise  of  oil  did  not  fail,  whole  families  of  the  poor 
lived  upon  his  bounty ;  and  if  his  resources  were  like 
to  be  exhausted,  he  would  quietly  turn  away  the  word 
of  caution  from  a  friend,  with  "Jehovah  Jireh,"  the 
Lord  will  provide. 

The  success  of  the  administration  of  his  diocese  by 
Bishop  CoBBS  was  answerable  to  his  great  qualities. 
He  found  it  weak,  a  Church  with  no  popular  prestige, 
an  unsettled  and  rapidly  changing  Clergy.  In  the 
Convention  that  elected  him,  but  eight  clerical  names 
appear  on  the  roll,  as  entitled  to  a  vote  and  seat.  He 
left  it  united,  vigorous,  and  growing  rapidly  in  num- 
bers and  in  strength.  An  endowed  Episcopate,  a 
Widow  and  Orphan's  Society,  whcse  vested  funds  will 


35 

compare  favorably  with  those  of  Hke  societies,  in  the 
older  and  wealthier  dioceses,  a  flourishing  Diocesan 
School,  the  parishes  more  than  doubled,  the  clergy 
and  communicants  quadrupled,  the  alms  and  oblations 
many-fold  increased,  a  vigorous  system  of  missions, 
these  are  facts  that  make  his  monument  and  speak 
his  praise.  He  was  not  only  a  good,  but  a  successful 
Bishop,  even  as  the  world  counts  success,  by  actual 
results.  He  was  however  a  pioneer;  his  time  and  la- 
bor were  spent  in  laying  broad  and  deep  foundations, 
and  not  upon  the  visible  walls  of  the  temple.  How 
he  labored,  what  success  he  achieved,  is  hidden  still 
in  the  womb  of  time,  but  as  long  as  the  Church  in 
Alabama  shall  have  any  existence,  she  will  reap  the 
fruit  of  the  toils  and  prayers  of  her  first  loved  Bishop, 
and  her  children's  children  shall  rise  up  to  call  him 
blessed. 

Sorrowfully  fell  upon  the  great  heart  of  his  diocese, 
and  upon  the  Church  at  large,  the  mournful  tidings  of 
the  last  sickness,  and  death  of  Bishop  Cobbs;  "such 
a  providence,"  say  neighboring  Bishops,  ''is  not  the 
least  ominous  of  the  signs  of  the  times."  In  the 
midst  of  great  political  convulsions,  in  the  very  hour 
of  his  country's  downfall,  amid  the  expiring  throes  of 
the  Union,  which  he  loved  with  patriot  heart,  and 
with  a  heart  no  less  true  to  his  native  South,  when 
Alabama  was  proclaiming  her  own  independence  and 
sovereignty,  January  11,  1861,  the  aged  saint  put  his 
armor  off,  and  drew  his  last  breath.     Not  unexpected 


36 

lo  him,  was  the  stroke  so  sudden  to  us.     He  lived  "as 
ever  in  his  great  Taskmaster's  eye,"  and  as  in  life,  so 
in  death,  was  he  ready  to  glorify  his  Lord  and  Christ. 
What  a  scene  did  that  dying  cli^mber  present,  what 
a  triumph  of  Christian  faith,  what  meekness  and  pa- 
tience in  suffering,  what  lowly  trust  in  the  goodness 
and  mercy  of  God.     It  was  the  end  of  sulfering,  of 
toil  and  care;  it  was  the  beginning  of  rest  and   life, 
the  life  that  dies  no  more.     When  the  bright  sun  was 
in  its  mid  career,  at  the  hour  of  high  noon,  in  the  bo- 
som of  his  family,  surrounded  by  his  weeping  clergy, 
when  all  was  silence,  save  the  sobs  that  could  not  be 
suppressed,  and  the  words  of  solemn  prayer,  life's 
great  battle  ended,  and  he  closed  his  eyes  upon  time, 
to  open  them  in  eternity.     His  soul  winged  her  flight 
to  the  realms  above,  and  the  faithful  servant  of  God, 
the  Israelite  without  guile  entered  upon  his  everlast- 
ing reward.     AVithout  a  murmur  or  a  sigh,  with  the 
expression  upon  his  lips,  of  what  had  been  ever  the 
faitli  in  liis  heart, 

"In  my  hand  no  price  I  bring, 
Simply  to  thy  cross  I  cling," 

he  sank  gently  to  his  rest,  "as  if  it  had  been  a  breath- 
ing sleep."  We  bore  him  reverently  to  his  tomb,  the 
heavens  weeping  sadly  the  while — the  sobs  and  tears 
of  gathered  multitudes,  attesting  the  depths  of  their 
sorrow,  and  the  greatness  of  his  worth.  HumiUty 
was  the  characteristic  of  his  life,  it  was  only  in  death, 
that  we  could  bear  our  wilhng  witness,  with  the  pur- 
ple pall,  and  tlio  insignia  of  woe,  that  a  great  man,  and 


37 

a  Prince,  had  fallen  in  Israel;  it  is  only  at  bis  grave, 
henceforth  to  be  to  us  a  pilgrim  shrine,  that  we  can 
pay  the  meet  tribute  to  the  memory  of  one,  whose 
name  the  Church  "will  never  willingly  let  die." 

Brethren,  and  friends,  at  your  request  and  by  your 
suffrage,  we  have  thus  feebly  attempted  to  commem- 
orate the  life  and  services  of  our  revered  Bishop,  and 
Father  in  God.  How  imperfectly,  how  inadequate 
to  our  great  theme,  you  can  bear  witness;  amid  what 
burden  of  parochial  and  scholastic  cares  prepared,  on- 
ly ourselves  can  know.  But  whatever  defects  there 
be,  our  last  words,  or  rather  not  oufs,  but  his,  shall 
redeem.  From  the  battlements  of  heaven,  the  spirit 
of  our  Bishop  still  looks  down  upon  the  diocese  he  so 
much  loved;  from  the  depths  of  his  grave,  there  comes 
a  voice  to  us,  the  children  of  his  love,  which  we  can 
but  heed.  In  his  waning  hours,  he  uttered  words,  to 
be  forever  graven  in  our  hearts,  forever  seen  in  our 
lives.  It  is  not  we,  but  your  dying  Bishop,  now  a 
saint  with  God,  who  exhorts  you  to 

"IJr  men  of  CKoTJ:— mm  of  4Jcacc,  men  of  lirotlirrly 
"Uiutjncjss,  men  of  cUnrftp;  sclf=ticui)ina  men,  men  of 
"purity,  men  of  ^irayf^;  i»fw  strtin'ng  to  4Jcrfrct  fto= 
"li'urss  in  the  fear  of  (Kotr,  nntJ  laijorins  antr  preach^ 
*'Cne  iuith  an  rgc  flintjlr  to  W^u  slorj)  antr  the  salijation 
"of  souls." 

Such  were  the  last  counsels  to  us  his  Clergy,  of  the 
dying  Israelite,  the  Israelite  without  guile. 


